Ностромо

           Itseemsthathewanderedaboutinandoutofthetown,andontwonightsturneduptosleepinthebaracoonsoftherailwaypeople.Heseemedabsolutelyindifferenttowhatwenton.Iaskedhimonthewharf,‘Whenareyougoingtotakeholdagain,Nostromo?TherewillbeplentyofworkfortheCargadorespresently.’

           “‘Senor,’sayshe,lookingatmeinaslow,inquisitivemanner,‘woulditsurpriseyoutohearthatIamtootiredtoworkjustyet?AndwhatworkcouldIdonow?HowcanIlookmyCargadoresinthefaceafterlosingalighter?’

           “Ibeggedhimnottothinkanymoreaboutthesilver,andhesmiled.Asmilethatwenttomyheart,sir.‘Itwasnomistake,’Itoldhim.‘Itwasafatality.Athingthatcouldnotbehelped.’‘Si,si!”hesaid,andturnedaway.Ithoughtitbesttoleavehimaloneforabittogetoverit.Sir,ittookhimyearsreally,togetoverit.IwaspresentathisinterviewwithDonCarlos.ImustsaythatGouldisratheracoldman.Hehadtokeepatighthandonhisfeelings,dealingwiththievesandrascals,inconstantdangerofruinforhimselfandwifeforsomanyyears,thatithadbecomeasecondnature.Theylookedateachotherforalongtime.DonCarlosaskedwhathecoulddoforhim,inhisquiet,reservedway.

           “‘MynameisknownfromoneendofSulacototheother,’hesaid,asquietastheother.‘Whatmorecanyoudoforme?’Thatwasallthatpassedonthatoccasion.